The Hale Inheritance 1

Chapter 3

One year later.

Hale Industries was bleeding out slowly enough that you could pretend it wasn't happening if you didn't look at the numbers.

Nathan stared at the numbers.

On his desk, which had once been his father's and then Daniel's, there were three reports. Q4 earnings down 9%. Two senior VPs had resigned to go to a competitor. The Hudson Yards project, Daniel's legacy project, was four months behind schedule and $12 million over budget because Nathan had insisted on switching to sustainable concrete that the contractors didn't know how to pour.

The sustainable concrete had been his idea. It was a good idea. It was also, apparently, a very expensive good idea.

His assistant buzzed. "Mr. Hale? The board is ready for you."

The boardroom on the 42nd floor still smelled like Daniel's cologne, even though Daniel had been gone for thirteen months. Or maybe Nathan was imagining it.

Richard Kline sat at the head of the table. Richard had been his father's best friend, his godfather, and the man who had most vocally opposed Nathan taking the CEO role.

"Nathan," Richard said, not unkindly. "Sit."

On the screen behind him was a slide deck. OPERATIONAL STABILIZATION PROPOSAL.

"We've hired a consultant," Richard said. "An outside firm to come in for eight weeks, audit operations, cut fat, get us back on track. This is not a reflection on you. It's standard. Hale needs it."

Nathan felt his jaw tighten. "Who?"

"Best in the business. Small, aggressive. They specialize in turnarounds for family companies. Monroe Consulting Group. Based in Chicago, but they work nationally."

Monroe.

Nathan's hand slipped on the armrest.

"No," he said, too fast.

Richard raised an eyebrow. "No? Nathan, you haven't even heard their fee."

"I know their founder."

"We know," Richard said. "That's why we hired her. She knows this company better than anyone we could have brought in. She built half the strategy you're currently trying to run. And frankly, son, you need someone who isn't going to be sentimental about Daniel's way of doing things."

The door opened.

She didn't knock.

Lila Monroe walked in wearing a charcoal wool suit and heels that made her taller than he remembered. Her hair was cut now, to her shoulders, blunt and precise. She wore small gold earrings. No ring.

She looked like a stranger. A very beautiful, very expensive stranger who could ruin him.

"Sorry I'm late, the elevator is still slow," she said, and her eyes flicked to him for exactly half a second before moving to the rest of the board. "Good morning, everyone."

She shook hands around the table. When she got to him, she extended her hand like he was anyone.

"Mr. Hale."

Her hand was cold.

"Ms. Monroe," he managed.

Richard beamed. "Lila, thank you for flying in. Nathan was just saying how pleased he is to have you back."

"I'm pleased to be back," she said, her voice perfectly even. "For eight weeks. Let's be clear on scope. I'm not here to make friends or preserve legacies. I'm here to make Hale profitable again. That will mean cuts. That will mean changes. I will need full access to every department, every book, every project file. Including Hudson Yards."

"Of course," Richard said.

"I'll need an office," she continued, opening her laptop. "Not in this fishbowl. Somewhere quiet where my team can work without being interrupted."

"We have the 38th floor -"

"The 38th is fine. And one more thing." She finally looked at Nathan again. Her eyes were unreadable. "To avoid any appearance of a conflict of interest, all of my findings will be reported directly to the board, not to the CEO. I'll need Mr. Hale to be available for interviews, of course, but I will not be reporting to him."

A clean, surgical cut. He felt it.

"That seems -" Nathan started.

"Reasonable," Richard interrupted. "Very reasonable. Welcome home, Lila."

She smiled, but not at Nathan.

"Thank you. It's good to be back in New York."

The meeting ended. The board filed out, each man stopping to shake her hand, to say how wonderful it was to see her, how much Daniel would have appreciated this.

Nathan stayed seated because he wasn't sure his legs would work.

Lila packed her laptop slowly. Deliberately.

"You cut your hair," he said, because he was an i***t.

"You grew a company into the ground," she said without looking up. "We all make choices."

"I didn't know they were bringing you."

"I know. Richard called me three weeks ago. I said I would only take the job if you didn't know. I wanted to see your face when I walked in."

That stung. He deserved it.

"Lila, about last year -"

She held up a hand. "Mr. Hale. If you want to apologize for the way you fired me as a girlfriend after one night, you can schedule time with my assistant. My rate is eight hundred dollars an hour. If you want to talk about Hudson Yards, I have fifteen minutes now."

She looked at him finally, and for a second he saw it - the hurt, still there, just buried under a year of armor.

"I spent a year becoming someone who doesn't get left on a library floor, Nathan," she said, very quietly so no one outside could hear. "Don't ask me to be her again."

She walked out, her heels sharp on the marble.

Nathan sat alone in his brother's boardroom, in his brother's chair, and realized he had spent the last year thinking about the morning after.

She had spent the last year making sure it would never happen again.